“You’ll find Mrs. Dingle along with her people at Priory Farm if you want her. She means to come to my lecture next week; but not if you’ve any objection, of course. And I beg you to understand that I’m heartily sorry for what I’ve done, and I’m punished a lot worse than you could punish me. To lose my stroke is nought; to lose my self-respect is everything.” “You’ll get ’em both back—such an amazing creature as you,” said Dingle dourly. Then Kellock went away, and the man who had listened to him little guessed at his soreness of spirit. Jordan indeed had the satisfaction of clearing his soul and confessing his weakness and failure; but he suffered ample degradation and discomfort under his right-doing. Nor did he believe that his end was likely to be gained. Doubting, he had taken his proposal to Ashprington; still doubting, he returned. Indeed, he felt sure from Ned’s attitude, both to him and Medora, that the girl would remain on his hands. A subtler man had felt every reason to hope from Dingle’s blunt comments, but he read nothing behind them. He only believed that he had eaten dirt for nought; yet he did not regret his confession of wrong; for his bent of mind was such that he knew he must have made it sooner or later. The future looked dark and sad enough. He was confused, downcast. Even the thought of the lecture had no present power to cheer him. But he told himself that he had done his duty to Medora, and suspected that, had she heard his appeal to her husband, she might have thanked him. And elsewhere Dingle pondered the problem. Curiously enough, only a point, which had seemed unimportant to anybody else, held his mind. Kellock had said Medora was changed, and such is human inconsistency, that whereas Ned had told himself for six months he was well rid of a bad woman, now the thought that he might receive back into his house a reformed character annoyed him. If he wanted anybody, it was the old Medora—not the plague, who left him for Kellock, but the laughter-loving, illusive help-mate he had married. He did not desire a humbled and repentant creature, ready to lick his boots. He was very doubtful if he really wanted anybody. Once the mistress of any man, he would never have thought of her again except to curse her; but she never had been that. She had doubtless shared Jordan’s exalted ideals. That was to her credit, and showed she honoured her first husband and the stock she sprang from. CHAPTER XXIX THE BARGAIN Through bright moonlight, that made the young leaves diaphanous and melted on the grass lands in grey mist, men and women were walking home to Ashprington from Totnes. Not less than five-and-twenty had gone from the Mill to hear Jordan Kellock’s lecture on socialism; and as they trudged homeward they discussed it.